


Soft-spoken calling, they want their shyness back.

by BearBooper



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, College, Drinking, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Human AU, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Multi, One-sided Netherlands/Canada, Recreational Drug Use, Sarcasm, Teen Angst, bad jokes overall, prucan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2018-11-12 10:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11159997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BearBooper/pseuds/BearBooper
Summary: College AU - Art Student Matthew and Media/Film Student Gilbert________Matthew likes art. It gives him expression when his quiet voice gets lost in the seas of attention-hungry students at Himaruya Academy. Art seems safe yet teetering just on the edge of questionable and provocative at times. In a way that could summarise his experience with Gilbert: Enough danger and uncertainty to keep his social life turning without feeling the discomfort. He likes art...He also really...really likes Gilbert.Gilbert is - to be honest - a self-proclaimed media genius (He's not wrong, he is pretty damn good at the course), He likes to create discussion and create thought-provoking pieces of music and film. At the same time, while he may have built his legacy in Media he has yet to build a sense of legacy and certainty with himself. Cue the smoking, drinking and late night 'rendezvous' and indulgent one night stands...it's the high point of college right, He's not lost- not fearful?Why does he not feel lost anymore when there's that blonde birdie looking his way?





	1. Chapter 1 - Accented Introductions and Loud blaring music

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Y'all! If you came from my instagram (aphcanada_not_cantnada) then <3 I love you and thank you for coming here! This is my first post on AO3 so please do leave critical feedback in the comments if you think I need to improve (I won't be offended, Promise!) I'm still getting used to writing in this format so I do apologise.
> 
> I do not own any of the characters, they all belong to the Show/Manga/Hell that is Hetalia and the creator/Hima-Papa Himaruya Hidekaz Himself.
> 
> Please enjoy the fluff :)
> 
> -Bear/Booper/Whatever you call me lmao idk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Tried to reformat it, Hopefully now the spacing isn't weird? 
> 
> \- Bear, 18/6/2017

Matthew was soft-spoken, which in hindsight he realised was attributed due to his, **_let’s be frank_** , terrible childhood of growing up with his loud and boisterous brother. Don’t get him wrong, sometimes being soft spoken had its benefits- like that time he got to skip out of doing public speaking…or that time his father gave him a pass after a problematic day at school…

** This was not one of those times. **

If the Canadian could describe himself it would be ‘appropriately passive’, someone not prone to anger unless he was provoked to a boundary which only ~~certain people~~ **_correction:_** incredibly and insanely idiotic people, have crossed (Alfred learnt his lesson after the case of the missing art supplies…). On any other typical evening at the bustling university dorm - a Friday night that all students of Himaruya Academy was yearning for - the strawberry blonde would roll his eyes as he heard the booming blasting music from the dorm adjacent to his, but with an art piece already way behind and his paint pot PHYSICALLY edging itself off his desk due to the vibrations, Matthew knew it was time to finally get over his quiet nature and shut down whatever the fuck his dorm neighbour thought was music.

  _'Maple- This is getting out of hand- come on Mattie just go over and give the hoser a good shout…it’s like that time with Alfred and his damned pranks’_ ,

 Still dressed in his old white shirt covered in splotches of green and red acrylic, spare jeans and tousled hair, the Canadian padded his way out of the room preparing himself to attempt a confrontation with his unknown neighbour. _‘Wait- I don’t even know who lives next door? Is this really a good-‘_

 His knuckles seemed to go in autopilot as he realised he had already knocked on the door. Suddenly the music spilt out of the already overfilled container of a dorm and filled the hallway with loud blaring drums of some generic rock song. A head had poked out and was currently staring down Matthew as if the artist was the one doing something rude. He gulped, anxiously as he looked to face the head which had appeared…never one to be good with confrontations his original angry tone he planned to use came out meeker than he wanted:

 “H-Hey could you have some respect and s-switch off your _trashy music_ , some of us are t-trying to work….?”

 As usual, his plan had failed, this was clearly evident with the stuttering and the last few words, which were meant to be a verbal jab, turned into an awkwardly posed question. Trying to regain control over himself, Matthew watched as the head retreated into the room, music promptly turned off, and quite surprisingly the door opening with the resident grinning wildly in return. It was the blonde’s turn to stare the man in front of him down, the bright ruby eyes pierced through his thoughts, the light grey- seemingly white- silver streaks of hair and what must have been the lightest skin he had ever seen _(‘I wonder if he would make a good canvas for my next paint-Mattie Back to task!’_ ) made the glasses-clad boy look in awe.

  _‘He’s so pretty...’ oh jeez…w-what-why am I here again??’_  

“Uh hello? Ah Kid you okay there?” a heavily accented voice dragged Matthew out of his little-infatuated daydream. Matthew gulped. What was he getting into?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 Gilbert Beilschmidt was not a soft-spoken guy. Granted that could be attributed to his position of the older brother; the one to get into squabbles and fights to protect the honour of his sibling (Not that Ludwig ever really appreciated it). It wasn’t uncommon to get various noise complaints from the students who occupied the rooms around him, however, the shy-looking captivating character in front of him was a new sight to see. ‘ _Scheiße he’s cute, verdammt…._ ’ He tilted his head and flashed a trademark snarky smile as he questioned the boy who also seemed to be lost in a daze. Slowly but surely opening up the door to his sanctuary, without words he invited the unknown person in – ‘ _this is probably not a good idea to invite strangers in….but this kid…he’s so cute he couldn’t hurt…..a fly…’_

 As the kid shuffled into Gilbert’s poster-covered room, Gilbert couldn’t help but continue watching the blonde’s small fidgets and expression: First a hand twitch as if to say ‘n-no I’m okay’ then acceptance and a preoccupied sense of unsure thoughts then a cluster of blinking violet depths accompanying a sudden wave of...wonder? The new person was busy admiring his décor with an enchanted glare,

 “Whoa…so beautiful….” He heard the student said quietly,

 “Why thank you, I do look my best when there’s good company”  The self-proclaimed Prussian was prone to spilling automatic pickup lines from his lips, though it was strange because he had started blushing after realising what he had said.

 Gilbert Doesn’t Blush. ~~Not Usually.~~

 There was a dramatic and quick change in the air as the visitor whipped around and scoffed out, “E-excuse me?”

 Gilbert’s eyes widened and he spluttered out an apology as he realised he just tried to flirt with a random guy who had only just met him.

 “A-ah sorry- I’m Gilbert, Nice to meet you, sorry about the noise-" he reached out his hand and felt a bit of hurt as the boy looked at the gesture with caution and had jumped back,

 “German.”

It was Gilbert’s turn to look confused and scoff.

 “Excuse me?”

 Matthew’s cheeks grew bright red as he looked down to the floor which was suddenly very interesting,

 “Sorry eh, Y-your accent…it’s German, You’re Ger-“

 “Judging from your ‘eh’ you’re Canadian, wait do you have something against Germans?”

 “ **NO NO** _oh my god no_ -I-I...Just...I didn’t- …"

 Matthew paused, it was embarrassing to admit what he said next,

 “I...I like accents.”

Matthew was filled with horror at how he must have sounded. He definitely wasn’t racist towards Germans…he just….really liked accents. It was a quirk he enjoyed strangely, a guilty admission of a detail Matthew loved. The room resident now known to Matthew as Gilbert halted for a moment inquisitively, before bursting into a laugh that nearly replicated his brother if it wasn’t accented – _‘Although this one feels…nicer to hear than Alfred’s..’_ Finally really paying attention to the skinny man Matthew noted the lopsided creased ‘Kings of Leon’ shirt (A band Matthew actually enjoyed!) and the low riding jeans that hung dangerously on the pale hips. Blushing and feeling more out of place than usual, the artist let out a tiny huff of discomfort.

 “My name’s Matthew Williams…Technically William-Jones but. I prefer-I mean- just Williams is better.” Out came the scattered words from the red cheeks,

 “As in William-Jones like Alfred William-Jones?” ‘Typical. Of course, this **_~~hot~~_** **_~~handsome~~_** **interesting** guy knew his brother. ‘Game over, no point attempting to be friendly now-‘

 “Mattie? Hey? You’re zoning out again, you alright ja?” a hand had reached up to Matthew’s fringe,

 His deeper thoughts subsided as he responded to Gilbert who was now closer and looming over him; almost touching his messy hair. With a small ‘eep’ Matthew shrunk at the student’s proximity and lack of boundaries. The silence was deafening when you realised all that could be heard was the rather sped up breathing of two college idiots gawking at each other, needless to say, the flurry of confusion, uncertainty and perplexity was tangible between the bated breaths. Everything they ever knew about connecting with someone seemed to click into place and while they both weren’t aware that they were on the same page, they both thought the same thing at that very moment:

 

**_'Fuck. He’s my Type.'_ **


	2. Chapter 2 - Why Did I invite Him into my room so Easily?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think the chapter title explains a basic overview of Mattie right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the overdose of speech and 'thoughts' of the characters, again I am an RPer trying to adapt to writing. I'll probably post this and then re-write it sometime later. I'm hoping to lord hima that the format didn't derp out.
> 
> I feel like I'm rushing a lot, I don't know where I'm really going with all this.

Finding a hook-up was never hard. Gilbert knew how to wave and woo any guy and gal (granted he needed to actually _try_ ). Night after night, a beautiful girl, a dashing lad – it didn’t matter. Putting it simply, the way the white-haired devil seduced people was effective and **singular**. It was not a ‘series’ of escapades; the word ‘series’ describe the concept of continuation...what Gilbert did was not continuations, not one after another (Oh he most definitely did NOT **_share_** his lays). They were separate events to him. After a tom-foolery of sorts, it would be a good morning and goodbye; a prompt push out of the door to say the least.

It was ‘fuck’ then ‘wish them luck.’ 

He would carry on the next day, carrying himself in such a prideful manner one could wonder how so many looked forward to being in bed with someone like that. If anyone asked Gilbert if the evenings of a stranger after stranger got boring, he would confidently shrug the question aside with ‘the philosophy of a player’. The thought of falling in love, further than a silly high school crush, was absurd. Devotion to another human being? A sudden feeling of glee towards another human being? A day when he would experience all that seemed too far to even acknowledge.

And yet here he was, locked in staring into purple irises from a boy he had only just met. Heart panging and brain whizzing without reason or sense. Breathe. Think. _Breathe,_ why is it _so hard to breathe_? _Think? What order was it again? It felt breathlessly confusing._

“G-Gilbert could you like let go?” a heat rose to his face and he backed away quickly and let go of a sprig of strawberry blonde hair. A soundless sigh of relief was released by Matthew, and a flustered motion of twiddling fingers accompanied the timid look the shorter boy wore. Bathing in the seemingly, weird comfortable silence that engulfed the room the taller of the two proposed to get to know each other:

“Would you like to chill here? - I mean- like if you have nothing to do. I see you like my posters and stuff.”

Gilbert watched the reaction carefully, searching for any hatred or disgust to appear, he was aware of what reputation he had.

“eh? I’ve got art coursework and I’m sorta- I’m behind on it.”

Art coursework? Considering Matthew’s brother was a mathematical prodigy and science ‘fanatic’ (Gilbert really meant _‘geek’_ but that sounded rude) he found it slightly alarming to hear that the student here was in the art stream… _’although that does explain his slightly dishevelled look in that paint-covered shirt’._ Gilbert found himself wanting to learn more and before he could stop himself he let it slip,

“Do you want to paint in here?”

In reality, Gilbert didn’t like studying alone. As much as he enjoyed his editing and planning scenes for his media course, it was draining sitting in a room cooped up alone. Hence why he relied on loud music to occupy his fleeting thoughts. The study hall and common room had been crowded with the varsity sports teams who were watching the campus’ big play-offs this week and the noise had been maliciously distracting. The study hall bred conversations too inane for his liking; snippets of people’s personal lives too irrelevant for Gilbert to sit through. On top of that, if needing a good environment meant travelling into the student-habitat known as the library (a place of late night coffee addicts struggling to complete 4 months of work) then he would rather fail the semester.

He had noticed the unsure reaction of the artist and gulped as the boy opened his mouth to reply:

“Well- My art stuff is already setup and messy in my room…I can’t really bring it here. Would- would you like to sit in my room? I…don’t mind.”

Gilbert’s face light up with happiness (relief as well- though he wouldn’t admit to it.), he took his laptop and charger along with a portfolio that _he swore weighed more than Ludwig when he was a child_ and followed Matthew into the neighbours’ room. Most of the people here were the first-years, a close-knit community that, 4 out of 5 times, respected and trusted each other’s personal space so they both waltzed in carelessly not looking to shut out anyone and left the door gaping out open.

Matthew motioned for Gilbert to sit down in front of his desk. Gingerly he place his laptop down and ducked down to plug in his worn out charger. As he reclined in the Canadian’s chair he witnessed a genius in the works of what Gilbert could only describe as pure emotion splayed out on a too-small-for-it’s-worth canvas.

 

* * *

 

For a few moments, the artist had pondered whether he had made another wrongful decision inviting the albino into his safe space – thinking about it more _‘I don’t usually do this huh.’_ One step within his room the thoughts seemed to melt away as he looked longingly to his painting, engrossed in the pursuit to add more paint onto the canvas Matthew didn’t notice the audience-like attention his guest was giving him.  Beautiful hues of red a green were doused carefully onto the illustration of springtime bliss. **_“eh- I would prefer something more autumn-y or…winter.”_** He mused to himself and mulled over the idea of painting something for his dorm after this fairly boring assignment is finished.

“Why autumn or winter?”

He was jolted out of his caged thoughts from that question, did he say that out loud?

“I-err I don’t particularly like this piece, it’s not the best. I personally like winter landscapes mor-“

A loud gasp hit Matthew’s ears and the Albino had screeched out as if utterly bewildered by the earlier comment,

“You don’t like it?! It’s really... really good- Better than what I could ever do! I’ve been trying to find someone who could draw a scene like that for ages!” The artist’s cheeks had flamed up in such overwhelming embarrassment (and a tiny smidge of smug pride) that he almost lost the latter of what Gilbert had blurted out.

Scene? Oh. Gilbert must be a media student….- _actually no wonder he seems familiar...was he that guy that sometimes appeared mysteriously near Feli and his Ludwig?_ – On the odd chance the departments had overlapping projects it wasn’t uncommon to find media students mingling with his fellow artists. Incidentally, he recalled about a month ago, he was commissioned by that smaller Finnish fellow ( _“O-Oh No I’m not Swedish, Berwald just hangs around a lot.”)_ to help apply face paint for a strange music video in a probably-Nordic language ( _I wonder if Tino did get an A for that project_ ).

“Scene for what?”

He had obviously caught those red eyes off guard, then as if a light switch had been flicked the boy’s grin grew wide.

“An Animation! Wanna see the storyboard? I’ve been looking for an animator, seeing as my drawing skills can be described as the equivalent of a…What was that saying…um...? A fish trying to climb a tree…”

It wasn’t like Matthew was trying to be rude, however, he had tuned out Gilbert after the silver haired student had turned his heavy overloaded binder of paper for show. The page was full. It looked overly detailed, annotated words scribbled over the crudely but clearly illustrated panels of what seemed to be a short story of _a young boy_? As he leant down closer to investigate the piece he noticed the smaller details scrawled in between the panels like **_‘Screen transition – autumn’_** or **_‘Redo panel, reframe’_**. With such a thorough and comprehensive plan, any animator would know exactly what the director would want from them.  _‘Honestly, if only the people who commissioned him would give him details like that – I’m looking at you Tino’_

“…Actually just realised what that fish quote meant...man that’s really smart I guess, can’t believe I…”

Oh. Gilbert was still yapping. His lavender eyes scoped up and down the page and he hummed in approval of the chatterbox’s work. He was staring so close to the page that the Canadian could feel his glasses slipping off…

“…..Hey! I should hire you to be my animator!”

Matthew had glanced so quickly at Gilbert in that moment that his glasses had slanted in the movement. This is going to be a long semester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that feeling when you have an idea for a story but you don't want to write it...you just want to read the finished product of the idea you have? That's me about 90% of the time. And why is it when you write a chapter you think 'gee this is a lot, This should be enough' and then when you actually post it you're like 'Okay. So like, That's a measly 1 web-page. oh well'. Send help.
> 
> Anyway, Thanks so much to LightBlueFlower (I'm still a bit fandom starstruck here, I know I need to get over it) for offering to be my writing buddy!
> 
> I sincerely apologise for this chapter being an utter mess, :(
> 
> \- Bear <3


	3. Chapter 3 - The Thrill of it All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this being so late! That and for Gilbert's extremely short POV. I ended up rambling about Matthew's little guilty pleasure of risk taking, didn't I? I wanted to get this out before a school trip :(
> 
> Oh and I mentioned the band Motion City Soundtrack, I kinda imagine it's the type of stuff Matt would listen to I guess.  
> It's a bit of a mess so I will re-edit later when I'm back - see Y'all in like a week? - 
> 
> \- Bear

“…..Hey! I should hire you to be my animator!” 

Gilbert had gushed out the words as If the suggestion held no consequences. It wasn’t easy to agree to accept a role with little to none reward on top of the already exorbitant piles of coursework which tormented any student…that and the pure fact animation took lots of time- time that some would say they did not own or could not conceivably plan out to section off their talents. Art was supposed to be fun, rewarding, fulfilling. It was always an escape for Matthew and to even consider using any free time (something he did not really have nowadays) on projects that weren’t collectively his own sounded like a plunge into self-afflicted failure. 

The last time he dabbled in a project that took over his free time, it was a family chore; almost everything involving Alfred felt like a chore. He had been strapped into the position of creating a concept image for another one of that horrible engineering thingy-ma-bobs Alfred designed. No pay and definitely no reward unless you regard crushing hugs and endless “I knew you could do it bro!” as a deserved gift. It was gruelling. It was **_work,_** not exactly ‘art’… 

 _Still…This storyboard contained copious amounts of promise, something I haven’t seen in a while. Sure, Results may not prove worth_ _y_ _and it could be an utter failure, heck his ‘director’ might be a hellish nightmare to deal with (‘_ _He reminds me of Alfred…not necessarily_ _a good sign_ _…’)_ in spite of all of this Matthew’s slight weakness came into play: 

Working with **Gilbert was a risk.**  

Danger. Potentially hazardous to his schedule and academic prospects. That sounded **hot** ** _fun._** To the common public, Matthew was unrecognisable. They, understandably, only saw a fellow who resembled a prodigy- the undesirable sibling that was mentioned in a footnote. A small detail in the background of a portrait of someone much more important. If he was noticed and thoroughly acknowledged, the most people understood was that he was soft-spoken, he was very good at art and was respectful of others. 

That’s true but horrifically, Matthew was, realistically, extremely bored. Bored and so unmotivated for anything but art. The craving for something more than just paint on a basic canvas was evident, and his creative mind had been screeching for something more tantalisingly sustaining. Call it what you may, sadistic to his sleep and/or work process or a terrible decision to his report card, Matthew loved risky things. Like hockey. 

Maybe that’s why he liked art? His parents responded negatively to his progression into art as it seemed dangerous; a traditional occupation like becoming doctor was bound to be a safe job prospect rather than a ‘starving’ artist. It held so much value. And once again… 

 ** _Gilbert was a Risk._**  

That was a factor that changed his hesitant decision to not take the job, taking up the offer seemed like the only real choice. Being slightly ‘unsafe’ sounded…unchained. Of course he would have rules and deadlines but still, it was a creative process that he could let take over his uninterested mind. He was going to do it. 

“Okay. Yeah that-That sounds good-“ 

“Wait?! Really Holy shit danke!” 

“I didn’t finish” Matthew's voice had taken a more serious tone as he announced his guidelines, “If I agree, I want something in return and I want a freer rein on your story. I want to be able to change some scene ideas, we work as equals on this or else I don’t do it.” 

The media student blinked in reply blankly before nodded his head in understanding, 

“…so Mattie, What do you want in return?” 

Contemplating on what he wanted, the blonde man debated over what could be a gain from Gilbert. At first, he pondered over getting the media student to buy his coffee every morning so he wouldn’t have to leave his bed early but the responsible voice in his head told him that would be stupid. Laundry after his hockey would be useful but then again, it would be weird having someone know about his hockey obsession in detail...He doubted the paler man knew any good weed dealer so that was out of the picture ( _Besides, his Dutch childhood friend, Tim, already sources that for Matthew)_.…that and a near-to-stranger acquaintance should definitely not be involved with his- rather unsavoury- habits 

“Can I use you as a Model?” 

If it was possible to be strangled by silence, Matthew would have been killed that very moment. In the process of getting ready to blurt out a very traditional Canadian ‘sorry, it’s alright to say no’ Gilbert had narrowed his eyes before eerily nodding for himself as if he had just made a deal with a devil he might regret years down the line. The two boys scrambled to sorting through the intricate plan that the albino has created, marking key scenes and a draft template Matt would draw digitally later on in the ‘calmer’ hours of Friday- if anything like that actually existed, Matthew had convinced himself that the paper drawing would be relatively smooth-sailing to replicate. Sharing toothy grins and even the occasional shuffle and chuckle over new concepts, excitedly the boys sorted out deadline dates. 

Conversations on 'actual' work diminished and at some point, Matthew’s unfinished summer painting was forgotten; as well as Gilbert’s laptop lid closing, the entire device tucked and buried under paperwork. Bands, Movies and stories flew from each other’s heads into the reciprocating ears back and forth. It felt natural. _It felt comforting._ _It felt nice._ Just occupying the former exhaustion of usual loneliness with new found company felt indulgent, really this was something the blonde had been yearning for the past few isolated months (He had friends just not those who were exactly ‘easy’ to talk to). As the boys fondly conversed over everyday idle chat the soft beat of **Motion City's Soundtrack 'The Future Freaks Me out'** played on- Just as Mattie Noticed from the band shirt, Gilbert had the same taste in music. The thrill of it all sounded lame when he realised he was excited over having a decent conversation, at this point ' _what could really get in the way of this perfect afternoon of random sketching and laughable jokes?_ _'_  

“Heyyyyyy sib….so I was wond-“ Well. The peace lasted while it could. A drastically loud boisterous voice pierced through the solace. Midway the voice seemed to die and as Matthew looked up he realised his newfound peace would be ruined for the rest of the evening, at least that's what could be interpreted when he witnessed his brother's expression: 

"WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?" Alfred had choked out and had nearly completely crumpled whatever paper he had been holding. Wincing at the aggressive yet usually intrusive nature and tone of his brother Matthew leant forward with head in his hands and let out what could only describe as a disappointed moan and sgot up stumbling towards his brother. 

"Has anyone ever _up_ _rightly_ told you how dramatic you are? I doubt Arth-"  

“HEY HEY NO WE ARE NOT DISCUSSING ARTHUR RIGHT NOW-MATTIE WHAT IS HE DOING IN HERE?!” 

 

* * *

 

If anything, Gilbert was less insulted by being referred to as ‘he’, majority of his feeling of discomfort stemmed from the fact Alfred never mentioned he had a **_cute ass brother._** Tempted to interject the one-sided conversation, he spectated the two squabbling siblings with the cuter one physically holding Alfred at the door by the shoulders. _Wait- Is Matthew Canadian?- Actually, that's a stupid question of course he is...It was obvious considering the boy's room was adorned with_ ** _RED fucking EVERYWHER_** _E,_ the occasional hockey sweater on the wall and crooked postcards of typical tourist hotspots like Niagara Falls (Not to mention Canadian flags on any item possible as if some cheesy gift Canadian tourist gift shop- Gilbert had noticed even the abandoned pens on the desk had maple leaf emblems) 

But that didn't really add up. The media major tried to do the calculations in his head: 

Alfred = American? Yes That's right... 

Matthew = Canadian? Well duh, they discussed that earlier and the room... 

 _Matthew = Alfred Brother???_  

"Um So...if Mattie is Canadian then how is Alfred Americ-" 

 ** _"IT'S A FAMILY THING"_** Both of the two mumbled out as they continued to fuss over each other. Finally, Matthew had stopped Alfred rude gawking and had started lecturing Al over god-knows-what.  

*Buzz* *Buzz* 

From his jeans pocket, the Prussian could feel the 'so-very-important' calls of his younger brother, deciding that continuing his project with Matthew would be hopeless with both Alfred and an impatient Ludwig he promptly decided to slip out passed Alfred and bid farewell to the cutie from the room next door. _Was I imagining it or was Matthew blushing? Oh_ _verdammt_ _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Deary. Matthew is a bit of a closed book I guess?
> 
> Gilbert Obviously does not know what he's doing either. 
> 
> I love these dorks
> 
> \- Bear


	4. Chapter 4 - Financing a world of shifts and drugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, So I got back from my school trip and let me tell you this: My body feels so tired but my mind is whizzing with ideas.
> 
> anyway, Have some Gilly Angst and some more insight to Matthew's more private life! I feel like the Ameripan subplot can be formed into a series of oneshots in the future but I'll have to see where that goes! Also, I do have things plan for Tim (Netherlands) as I am an avid history geek and ship NedCan and the Tulip thing, bless him, I'm about to make his life hell soon. // Tbh I'm gonna make all these characters' lives hell soon //
> 
> Oh here are the people/names that you might be confused about as you read:  
> Elizabeta - Hungary  
> Roderich - Austria  
> Tim - Netherlands  
> Laura - Belgium

Within his short 18 years of his life, Gilbert knew he fell short of a lot of things. Most of the time the list of his personal struggles were propelled far away from the contemptuous moments of strife that he was forced to worry about currently so in turn of all that he wasn’t used to being open to his subconscious pacing mind. All the repressed trouble he cooked up was bubbling over- much like Arthur’s attempt of _‘soup’_ from last week. Whenever he seemed to not be distracted by a family issue presented by his brother, it was coursework that acted as blockade from having a social life, or sometimes the extremities faced when dealing with pesters from Elizabeta and Roderich (Only God knows what those two would be doing on a weekend...); even the occasional whining from a certain Frenchman.

A chime of a small bell over the café’s door announced his presence to the other inhabitants. The oaky smell of old counters flooded his senses and the light yellow walls plastered with generic atmospheric photos of Himaruya Academy’s campus populated some of the emptier spaces (You could tell these were taken by students as well, what with the tiny label under each photo). Aromatic aromas of freshly brewed coffee and whiffs of alluring chai lattes made Gilbert smile warmly, it was if he had been hugged by comfort itself. You would think a café would be empty at around 10 pm, but it seems like the need for caffeine for any student was a constant. The distance between his dorm hall and the small campus café was luckily close, a breeze of a stroll that delighted any exhausted student, thus his tardiness in his arrival was actually inexcusable. He mulled over trying to produce an excuse to give later to explain his delay… Of course, his overall excitement was at an all-time low considering Gilbert would have to deal with an infuriated Ludwig-

“Seriously Gil? You’re late 20 minutes”

Speaking of the organised stick-in-the-mud devil, his younger brother (Who, unfairly, had grown taller than the paler of the two) was eyeing him with annoyance and the albino could practically feel the dagger-like stares pushing into his chest. A cockier-than-usual ‘I’m more organised than you and you know it' looks of disapproval caught him off guard… Oh god is he going to say something about the new shir-

“Mein Gott, How the hell are you funding your wardrobe when you can’t even pay me back?”

“Lovely to see you too dear West, I’m doing fine, Gee thanks! How thoughtful for you to ask.”

Sarcasm and mock pleasure rolled off his tongue easily and with a sublime sense of satisfaction. But as he went to sit down at the small table he noticed the change in mood. facing diligently and apprehensively at the stern look of his brother he realised that his obvious joke will not go without consequence…clearly, Ludwig had something serious this time and the call for the older sibling was not an act of choice but instead an act of necessity. Gilbert gulped. Fidgeting slightly, preparing to be the bearer of bad news, the blue-eyed sibling attempted to keep his voice lower than usual and to keep the conversation at a seemingly okay level of panic:

“We can’t exactly quit our jobs this holiday, and my calculations state that we might even have to pick up an extra shift. There is no way we can visit Uncle this year.”

Gilbert flinched and could swear he felt his heart break a little. To others the news may not seem to be ‘that serious’ – sure it was bad but being heartbroken was an over exaggeration right? Consider the fact you had been working your **_FUCKING_** ass off your whole life, juggling multiple jobs while studying with a crappy stream of income and pay check-to-pay check funding, _being robbed_ of countless hours of personal time that in your eyes were a privilege, never a minimum, and last but not least the breakdowns when you realised you felt so alone. This news would make your heart shatter like fragile glass. ‘ ** _Fuck karma, Lady Luck_** _couldn’t give him a day off_ ,’ It seemed like dog days would never be chased off. Unbelievable. Inconceivably pissed off. Flipping the table, walking out and burying himself in the nearest graveyard felt like _a reasonable_ move as of right now.

“What. The. **FUCK.** ”

“Calm down we can handl-“

“I can’t!- There has to be some miscalculation, last I checked we had enough for that break, I was given time off and a pay raise! This shouldn’t- What-WHY? **_I PRACTICALLY DIED_**.”

“Look I get it- I’m not happy either?! But shouting won’t do us any help either!”

He was fuming and he could see the fury shining in his company’s eyes as well. Growing up Gilbert always hid his vents and rants and kept his true thoughts away from the impressionable mind of his sibling but at times like this, it was clear what they were both thinking. Ludwig must have known this news hit his brother harder than it would him, and those awkward compassionate pats were a pitiful attempt at family comfort. They never really used affectionate gestures in the past, there was never any time for stuff like that.

Years and years, harking as far back as the tender age of 14, he could recall working for an extra bit of pocket money. Pocket money soon evolved into a college fund for himself and West within 2 years. Not to mention the small amounts he had to save for indulging to keep the sanity that prevented him from turning into an emotionless working robot. Thankful was not a strong enough word to describe what Gilbert felt for his uncle, there wasn’t any word that could achieve the level of gratitude the boy held for the old man. Respect towards the old man was something he taught Ludwig early on ( _Come to think of it, they moved in with their Uncle when Ludwig was only...12?_ ), even if the latter didn’t understand their situation at that very young age. Spaced out due to the reminiscing he hadn’t noticed the warm cup of coffee that had been kindly delivered to him ( _Yes, a nice cup of coffee at 10 pm, go college life!_ ), Ludwig’s strong voice started to come back to the forefront of his attention;

“You take your rest, you deserved the break, Bruder. I can do an extra shift- Feli says his shift has an extra slot anyway that I can take and it’s not very long, we just need to rearrange the bank allocations…” The blonder German was droning on and was in actual fact, talking to himself more than he was meaning to actually converse with the other.

Sighing into his now slightly cold coffee, the teen pondered over his choices and reviewed his recent schedules: wake up, eat, Attend lectures, go to multiple work shifts throughout the day during his study hours, do some coursework till the morning light and pass out, repeat. He had started slacking this continues cycle of college-life torture. He had finally worked enough to wager a good break that his boss from his large shift (A shitty – but hey it’s decent? – 7 bucks an hour) at the local cinema, an undesirable night shift that no one wanted to partake when they could be partying. Only this month had he been throwing away his frazzled mind with hook-ups and well-deserved parties with his former Misfits.  He had ached for those nights again, and for a short while he had them back. What was the point of being a ‘creative’ mind when you can’t produce any of the garbage you actually want to?! Being stuck in the mantra of: “How many tickets sir? Which seat..? Hope you enjoy the show!” was the cause of the internal bomb of irritation that ticked faster and faster and Gilbert wasn’t even sure he would have any fuse left soon.

 _I’ve got to go_. Was it ever possible to become unattached to reality? **_God I wish_** , with haste Gilbert suddenly got up and bolted out with mutters of incomprehensible frustration.

“Gilbe-Where are you goi-Hey we aren’t” the protests over his disappearance faded into the background as Gilbert left to walk back to his room. He could really do with some music.

 

* * *

 

 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE LIVES NEXT DOOR?! HAS HE HURT YOU? _OH MY GOD_ ”

Matthew lamented over his wasted time, the paint covered boy had nestled down on his bed with his ruffled hair and head thrown back onto the cushy red covers, He could be actually painting right now…or y’know…seeing Tim for a drug hit. Eyes shut with another exhale of boredom as Alfred rambled on, shooting an overdose of “He’s the bad kind, he’s not good, and he could be a murderer” lecture into the strawberry blonde’s tired ears. You would think a prodigy with a near IQ of 160 would be able to identify a real threat.

_Sometimes he really just wanted to forget about this._

“I don’t think we are even thinking of the same person Al” blurting out quietly, still trying to zone out from his brother’s incessant fussing. “Have you even met him?”

“I don’t **neeeed** to meet him. I KNOW he’s bad for you, I don’t want him touching and getting all up in my little brother’s space and…poisoning him with all the college nonsense.”

_Bullshit, poison what? I already drink and take- Ahh that’s right he doesn’t know about the ‘college nonsense’ I actually do participate in. **Woops.**_

“I have no idea what you are talking about, hell you’re starting to sound old like Artie”

“I am not-I am **_NOT_** like Artie! Why the sudden interest in this Gilbert GUY ANYWAY??” This had dragged on for an hour and Matthew needed to make a dash for Tim’s house if he wanted to get done in time to come back reasonably sober.

“Don’t you have some project to do Alfie? It’s getting late and I want to do some work-Besides wouldn’t you want to call _Kiku~_ ” 1 point to Matthew, He had gotten his brother to look off in revelation and gain some red tinge on the cheeks. Kiku, a Japanese student who his American sibling had met and been pining for, was located at Himaruya Academy’s Tokyo campus (Mostly shortlisted to ‘The Deen Campus’ after its association). The two had been introduced during their foundation year and it was clear his sibling had a very big soft spot for the guy, so much so after the Japanese student transferred back to Japan they kept in touch with long Skype calls and endless texts. They, to quote: “Are **_n-not_** dating!! Kiku’s Not even interested…in guys…..or me.”

Hurriedly and trying to look less embarrassed, Alfred scuttled out. ‘ _Finally’_. A glance at his watch told Matthew he would need to leave now or else Tim will call him out for bailing _\- ‘I am not gonna lose this cus of Al goddammit’_ – Grabbing his trademark and overused hoodie, the stocky 18 year old climbed out of the _way too_ small dorm window. Armed with his phone and car keys, he clambered into the cramped car and drove steadily down out the campus to his friend’s rented house; a typical scene for bad cliché college parties – happily it was not time for any party. As idiotic as it may seem, Strolling through the front door would not be a good idea as his childhood friend always warned him his sister would not appreciate visitors at this time (Matthew was 100% Laura didn’t even know Tim did pot, nonetheless that he did pot **_WITH_** Mattie), so he took the safer route _(‘Well, physically more dangerous’_ ) and climbed onto a small balcony on the side of the house, softly knocking on the glass that had the curtains drawn-

 _“You’re late.”_ Looking up to face his taller companion, the Canadian heard the gruff voice of annoyance as he pulled back the curtains and the sliding glass door opened.

“Sorry T, Al got me caught up in some bullshit, the hoser kept me busy…” The scarfed house owner moved aside and silently invited him into the messy room. On closer inspection, messy would not be applicable – while the floor was covered in some clothes, questionable (?) magazines and beanbags, the dark blue walls hoisted clean neat shelves which held a multitude of knickknacks.

“..You know you could’ve gotten started without me?

“Hah. Yeah right, where’s the fun in that Mattie?” A small tired-sounding chuckle flowed from the taller of the two, a bong had been passed towards Matthew who had founded himself cosy in a familiar beanbag. The haze felt good already. Matthew took it eagerly and grumbled: “How much do I owe you?”

“ _Honestly…_ Too much. Hah, No but like come on Mattie, I thought we got over this already. I’m not gonna charge a friend for this stuff. Especially not **_you_**.” Grinning with humour the Dutchman took the beanbag opposite to him.

 It was all very strange at the beginning of this whole ordeal with his Dutch friend. They had grown up together and Matthew had very good relations with the ‘Van-der-Berg’ family. After joining the Academy he was glad he at least had a recognisable older pal but throughout all of the years that had gone by knowing him, he always noticed the precise and businessman-like nature of this man. Yet when he offered to help Matthew get his usual weed (Something Matt had easier access to in Canada and the times he visited the Netherlands and definitely something you don’t shout about) he didn’t charge a single penny. Hell, this fucker had once charged him after Matthew dragged them to the bathroom at camp…when they were 12 YEARS OLD. This guy always ~~needed~~ **_wanted_** to make a dime. Except for drugs. Which…was insanely strange AND expensive. ‘ _Especially not me? Ah Tim, I still really don’t know you.’_ He tried not to think about it so much as when there was sweet dreamy smoke being smothered and pushed into Matthew’s body.

_Sometimes it is possible to forget about things, you just need the right stuff._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention I'm very bad at subtle hints at romantic pining? all I have left to say: RIP Tim's attempt to get out the friendzone. Hang in there friendo.
> 
> I hope this chapter tides you all well as I try to scramble and put words together to make something reasonable okay!   
> \- Bear <3


	5. Chapter 5 - He Just wants his goddamn coffee after an interrupted rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim Texts, Matthew Rests, And Gilbert thinks of paranoid fueled sex. (Not really, he just isn't sure what he's thinking, bless him)   
> Anyone want Coffee?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SONG FOR THIS CHAPTER (Song Gil is Playing in this chapter): Bohemian Like You by The Dandy Warhols, another song I feel PruCan probably both like. 
> 
> Hi! I disappeared on a family vacay, which was good and overwhelmingly too much for me to comprehend most of the trip. Sorry about it all, Have this quickly written chapter that attempts to summarise Matthew's Family (I will probably come back to rewrite cus this is so half-assed rushed) I'm SO SORRY for the amount of Dialogue. Note for my Ameripan Friends down in the chapter note at the bottom! 
> 
> Vash (Switzerland) is the RA, a Dorm Resident assistant, who's job is basically a typically older student who supervises the dorm and student affairs in that designated area. I felt like he would be a good one, considering his personality. Yes, Francis is a close friend of Gil and *Wink Wink* Gil is not afraid to call him attractive, though he does not have any interest romantically speaking (That goddamn Frenchman has everyone tied up doesn't he?)

It was already **_10am._** _God forbid if his mother found out about his sleep patterns_

Amusingly, Matthew’s tussled hair and overall dishevelled Saturday morning look blended well with most of the bumbling students who had woken up and pranced through the dorm hallways. None of the other students would suspect him of convicting anything shady in the slightest sense. A boring boy would have a seemingly boring Friday night right? _Besides, Weed isn’t **that shady** …_ While it may have seemed strange to witness him roaming around and suspiciously entering his room at an early 6am on a Saturday morning, the dorm supervisor barely gave a questionable but passing gaze. ‘ _If Vash didn’t know me he probably would just think I was another rascal coming back from a victorious hook-up, Hah I wish_.’ Stretching his arm to reach his bedside table, His phone had beeped in the earlier hours of the day, sometime around 7am Tim had left an eerie text that Matthew could understand very clearly.

  * **T @ 7:18am** [You did it again last night, Maybe you should talk to Al about what’s on your mind. Just checking, same time Friday as usual, or is being late the new normal?]



Matthew groaned. His activities last night were somewhat a blur: as usual, he got some good kush with Tim, maybe popped a beer and did ‘It’ again… but all in all stealthily left the house around 5ish? It was already nearing lunchtime and the violet-eyed hooligan had only just rolled out of his covers (In his defence he was up most of the night _!). Shit. A beer_ , he recalled thoroughly now the more he thought about it: He had a few beers- that on top of the drug induced daze, of course he did ‘it’. His consciousness pestered him with a bit of held-back guilt. Matthew knew what he must have done last night. Every now and again – more frequently than he likes to admit – after a chug of beer and a dosage of really good free weed, the Canadian would get embarrassingly laidback with whoever was unfortunate to accompany him at the time. Clingy was the better way to describe it. He knew he could escalate into terrible rambles about his life problems or anything on his mind while mindlessly throwing himself onto his dealer. ‘ _What better way to show how insecure you are than crying while high?’_ Tim was always held victim to these speeches and cuddling, it had become an issue a while back when the Dutchman had gotten a girlfriend ( **Whom of which Matthew was not a big fan of – she always made fun of his glasses** ), she used to join them in the weed and would look disgustingly at Matt. The blonde still felt a bit of remorse and culpable of their premature breakup; Tim said it was mutual though. That aside, the blanket covered boy bit his tongue back in guilt, he was probably annoying Tim with his horrible habits and tendencies, it was a miracle his childhood friend was used to it. For now, _I’ll just send an apology, which would suffice right?_

  * **M @ 9:54am** [ah sorry about that- I still owe you a coffee for last time, thx for the heads up. Fridays times won’t change, Wanna grab some coffee in 30?]
  * **T @ 10am** [Not today, You know me, I’ve got some house chores this morning]



Rolling his eyes with a comfortable chuckled Matthew was determined to apologise somehow to the Dutchman.

  * **M @ 10:21am** [Is gardening really more important than me L? Jk, Tomorrow then?]



Seeing there would be no reply for a short while he thought of ways to complain about his brother without making it a replay of last night. Perceptively, after throwing his phone somewhere else on the bed, he noticed his mahogany coloured door had been left open – _did he leave it open when he came back earlier??_ Common practice of leaving the door open was fine however usually in most cases…you have to open the door yourself. Gathering his senses the Canadian who was still clad in his old hoodie laid back for a few seconds to fizzle out any panic over this door situation. Music Streamed defiantly into his ears that caught his attention, The smooth voices of The Dandy Warhols was crystal clear: _Who the hell plays music with his doors open in the afternoon??_ It was an unspoken policy to keep booming music for Friday and Saturday nights.

“GILLLBEEERRT.” Matthew’s voice croaked out trying to garner the attention of his newly discovered neighbour and his overwhelming music. Very quickly he got a response: The music had paused and he could hear some murmurs of people outside whispering words close to: “Did he just manage Gil to turn off-“ or “How come when I-“ The exhausted art student didn’t bother to hear the ending of those sentences as the albino padded his way to the doorframe. Even without his glasses he could see Leaning confidently with crossed arms, Gilbert was tutting at him.

“Ah so sleeping beauty has finally awoken.” Spectating the tangled mess of sheets and his lopsided hair, those red eyes and smirking lips continued on, “You slept through this entire morning as if you were dead to the world!”

“Yeah Yeah shush it, and quit it with the loud music and open doors.” The blonde mess dove straight face first back into a nearby pillow and muffled out “Saturdays are sleep in days for some of us.” Apparently to Gilbert that was the wrong answer to a question he never asked.

“Woah NO! Look you signed a deal with the devil, You gotta wake up and work on the animation with me!” incomprehensible groans was all the silver haired ‘devil’ would get back. I am not getting up. “I came to see you earlier but you were passed out, Vash mentioned you arriving back here at around 6am? Care to explain?”

“Piss off hoser, none of your business” shifting himself while grasping onto his covers he let an arm poke out for the silver haired boy to see a rude middle finger. “l’m literally not obliged to reveal my Friday night plans to you”

* * *

Weirdly enough, Gilbert felt disheartened by Matthew’s refusal to spill any beans. Attempting to get the Canadian out of his slumber was trickier than he would’ve imagined; **_this adorable motherfucker is like a hibernating bear verdammt._** First, he attempted tugging the red cotton apparel but a hand would sneak its way swatting away the attack. A combination of tugging and shaking was put into practice and for a moment it worked to stir the resting sleeper. Until Gilbert found his hand in a grapple that resembled the grip of his brother in a pissed mood. _Actually, Never mind._ Ludwig’s grip could not compare to the strength he was currently experiencing.

“ _MatMatMATTIE owwww”_ Upon hearing the well-deserved whines, the laying aggressor released Gilbert’s painful hand. Slowly but surely the mop top long haired Canadian got up and rubbed his eyes, The Prussian was still looming over him and found himself inquisitively admiring Matthew. A yawn or two later Matthew mumbled out a request for Gilbert to reach over and grab his folded glasses that had been left haphazardly on the desk nearby. His fingers fumbled when he had been passed the glasses and as those beautiful violet irises came into view. _God, they are so pretty._

“I only wanted to tell you to shut off your dang music!” The shorter boy snapped at him, in turn Gilbert raised his eyebrows in confusion

“I thought you like my music?”

“There’s a difference between liking the music and playing it at the right time”

Scoffing as he was left voiceless without a good response to retort, he watched from the side as the boy groggily got up and saunter into the bathroom with a clean set of clothes. Still not satisfied with his project partner's reaction he sat lazily on the messy bed with his arms back gazing towards the slightly-but not completely closed toilet door. A sharp ping notification rang through the room and Gilbert was tempted to check the Canadian’s red cased phone left on the bed-

“Gil Can you check that for me! My pass is 1812”

With a ‘sure thing’ that sounded a bit too eager, he opened the phone to the latest text labelled under the contact “Tim Van De Berg”, a Name that sounded awfully familiar

  * **T @10:27am** [Ouch, You know you like my flowers - Sure thing but you’re paying after last night. Time?]



“He says he wants you to pay…for uh-coffee…and when?” Gilbert spoke out to garner the reaction to write out a response, carefully scrolling up as if an investigator. ‘After last night’ _did…was this Tim guy dating Matthew? Why should you care, you only just met him, god stop being such a fuckboy-_

“Tell him “whatever tulip boy, tomorrow 9am”, Matthew had ambled out the lone bathroom still yawning with his hair in a haphazard attempt at a bun, the golden curls seem to be slipping out of the black hairband weakly, Reminiscent of a certain Frenchie.

He gulped, whispering the thought louder than he thought he would,

 “…you look kinda like Francis” Lord this boy is a genetic masterpiece.

“Fran-? Francis Bonnefoy?” Puzzled yet pleased that Matt knew the Frenchman he was thinking about, he perked up, nodded with a cosy smile and a tilted glance.

“Oh Well I would be worried if we didn’t look similar, He’s my cousin!” the red boy who slept in an oversized hockey jersey (That was slipping off his shoulder and definitely giving a good view) shrugged with a delicate grin and went to a small pile of clothes. Sitting in definite interest, Gilbert learnt all about Matthew’s family from the tiny details the boy had been mindlessly and needlessly spewing out.

He thought for the longest time his family life was complicated, holy fuck, Matthew’s was a mess. Matthew’s Mother ( _Or Maman as he had a tendency to call her after slipping into his soothing French-Canadian accent_ ) is a Parisian-born, yet Canadian-raised lady who so happens to be the sister of Francis’ mother. Originally ‘betrothed’ into a ‘Quote on quote’ terrible relationship, she bore twins: Matthew and Alfred. Soon a divorce had been put into place once they were 7 years old and led to Al being shipped downwards to America while he stayed in the frosty North. For a long time, they only saw each other at summer-camps their parents had agreed to send them to. Some years, if they weren’t holed up together at tiresome stereotypical camps, it was at their extended family’s reunions. If it was their father’s side, it would be some obscure village in the UK; otherwise, their mother would demand to ship them to Auntie Marianne, where Francis would be waiting to see how much his cousins had grown – even if he was only 1 year older than them.

“Growing up, Alfred always preferred to have Jones as his last name because of dad. For me it was more familiar to be known as Williams. Ha-ha- Look at me. I-I um, I’m rambling – Oh **GOD** I need coffee” whining out, this was the most grumpy face he had ever imagined to see on that glowing face.

Gilbert had turned around earlier to face the now closed bedroom door as he waited for the other teen to change out of his Pjs. They exchanged exasperated mumbles of how difficult childhood could be.

“So….? Uh when can we work on the project?”

“Want to do it now over some coffee? I just got blown off by my usual coffee company anyway.” Listening to the proposal, he couldn’t understand why he sounded so relieved hearing Matthew so unaffected by whoever that was that said no to coffee. He unconsciously grimaced at what Vash had told him this morning when he had been looking for the Canadian: “He was sneaking back into his room around 6am.”

**_I hope this Tim guy only blew off coffee and nothing else. Scheisse stop being such a perv goddamit._ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Mattie, Oh Mattie, What beauty do I see lay there in a softly woven bed!" Jeez, I've always seen Matthew as someone terrible at waking up early. He's also got terrible habits. I can't wait for more pain! <3 sorry guys, don't you just want them to kiss already? I know I do. Talking about how often I use music in this, Is anyone interested in joining my little wall of just music sharing to do with ships and stuff? It's just my notes of songs that I think to work well for characters or ships and why cus I'm a nerd.
> 
> As for my Ameripan friends: Hold still please, While they might not be the main attraction I will drop in some fluff for you. I was thinking of another Fic in the Soft-spoken Universe purely just the Ameripan side of things because honest to god I have their lives planned out like the obsessed shit I am, would that pique any interest? Do tell me if that would be interesting. It will most likely be put out after I finish writing this fic.
> 
> Lots of Love to y'all! -Bear :)  
> P.s To the people in my Tumblr: No I don't write the dirty....Maybe one day you could persuade me. (Probably never.)


	6. Chapter 6 - You were getting better. I believed you. I still do.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which I write stupidly about Matthew's family again. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being gone for so long! Studies are tiring me out! I will come back and edit this later, I didn't want this sitting in my saves for too long.
> 
> \- Bear <3

It perplexed him. Those strange looks, sometimes a smug smile accompanied by what were out-of-place unsure eyes, an uncharacteristic hum and hurried glances that threw Matthew off. He liked to believe growing up as a wallflower he could interpret the little habits and expressions people displayed but the strawberry blonde was never so irked by a person’s tendencies. Most reactions were predictable once you’ve lived with someone like Alfie; _God knows how repetitive his life was whenever Alfred messed things up._ Gilbert seemed to be deep in thoughts as they walked towards the café and the air seemed to have a tension that shouldn’t have sprung up in the first place. Maybe it was the artist inside of him that pressed him to admire Gilbert, he had been Side eyeing the man casually as they discussed coursework on the way there. **_Okay…_** Maybe it was the overall active nature of his gay thoughts that lead him to really admire Gilbert. A little bit of rosy tint on those pale cheeks and even just with those cute chuckles underneath his breath, it was hypnotising to watch those red eyes dart from the floor and back- _Oh shoot he’s looking at me._

“Mattie? Hello….earth to Matthew?”

“Ah sorry um. Yeah- Gil?”

“I was just wondering I know I asked before, what you were doing…Last night?” digging his hands further into his hoodie’s pockets, he gulped.

“Oh you know, some work, and went to a friend’s place to talk about stuff.”

Gilbert seemed to buy it. The last thing he needed right now was someone blabbering to Alfie about his brother’s secret social life. God, he sounded paranoid. The quiet and cosy atmosphere of the café allowed them both to relax as they ordered 2 coffees (including a maple cookie!) Gilbert proved to be highly efficient when it came to matters planning.

“I just don’t understand why you want to change this scene?” Matthew stared harder at the document that had been scribbled on multiple time leaving the page scuffed up and blurry with all the erasing of the lead. Incredulously his new ‘director’ wanted to remove a beautiful scene that had been in Matthew’s artistic brain already

“It just seems a bit cliché, the sitting under a tree and stuff- apologising, I wrote it a while back so I don’t reall-“

“I still think I should draw it! It’s c-cute. Very romantic.” it didn’t occur to him how long they had been sitting together. Halfway through a chuckle (Matthew had good jokes! At least Gil laughed!), He heard the self-labelled Prussian murmur:

“…How did I not know you were in the dorms? Before we met I mean?”

Yes. How did they not see each other? Maybe it was Matthew’s unorganised late morning rushes out the door or the fact Gilbert took different classes and had multiple work shifts? Strange indeed. The albino always gave off this strange and alluring aura. He shook his head, calming down from his fit of laughter and gave a confident shrug as he sipped more of his coffee. There were a lot of questions – “If Alfred is in an advanced course what is your plan is?” “Wait?? You’re taking higher level art?? Is that a thing?!” – Matthew, in turn, asked a lot of questions as the man in front of him seemed mysteriously unwilling to really talk about himself.

“O-oH Ludwig is your brother?” That was cool, Ludwig was currently in foundation sciences as he was a year younger than Alfred and Matthew. He only knew this because Alfred once mentored the kid in junior engineering – Ludwig was a well-known prodigy and it was clear the older sibling took pride in his younger brother’s intelligence.

“How did you meet Francis?” It got a nervous reply out of that one, apparently those two knew each other through high school and were pretty close- now that he recalled he does remember Franny talking about some Spanish guy and a Germanic hooligan, Evidence of this were left in form of photos of prohibited teen parties were littered haphazardly on Francis’ Instagram .

“Enough questions Mattie…soooo…I’ve got to go, I’ve got film right now-“

“oh oH I’m sorry! Please do go!”

“..Call me when you’re free. I’ve got a shift later but I should be off after that too.”

Shit.

Before he could look up and even see that smug son of a bitch leave the man disappeared leaving a scrawled number on an unused napkin. _Fuck when did he do that?_ Gilbert seemed nice, not judgemental- if anything I was being the rude one being so insistent on asking him about stuff… _oh geez he knows Franny…._

  * **M @ 11:30:** [How long have you known Gilbert Beilschmidt?]


  * **F @ 11:33:** [Oh and Bonjour to you too mon ami, I would have thought my nicer cousin would text me now and again but non…    :(   ]  

  * **M @ 11:34:** [Boohoo, At least I still call- Alfred is still avoiding you.]  

  * **F @ 11:35:** [  :(  !!! Anyway, what’s this about Gilly? 
    * I’ve known him since boarding, He came to one of our home parties back when you visited my graduation….
    * Does someone have something to tell me, non?
    * Did he do something???


  * **M @ 11:36** : Non, Just working with him on a project. How’s Aunt Marianne?]



**_ Last Seen online at 11:36 _ **

That motherfucker blue ticked him. Oh well. Matthew sighed as he twirled his pen in his hand, nonchalantly staring at his cold coffee. Maybe today would be a good day to check up on Alfred. Lazily, the Canadian stood up, grabbing his satchel as he spun round to leave. His twin had always been difficult but at the end of the day…they had always been there for each other. It was infuriating venting out to Alfred but after his jumbled head had decided to spill to ‘Tulip Boy’ last night he figured that speaking to his unconditionally-loved brother was the best way to resolve the cloudy thoughts.

Al never seemed to like ‘quiet time’ or ‘real talk’. Like the time he had fought with Arthur and nearly dragged Matthew into the kerfuffle; almost getting the whole student body riled up on his silly personal issue with the Brit. However, when Alfred was quiet or secluded, purposefully isolating himself, it was because of something genuinely pressing. Matthew could remember those cold nights of the dingy camp cabins with Al sat closely beside him – hands trembling as he spoke about feeling out of place, Matthew just let him cry that night. Perfect prodigies can be unhappy too.

“COME IN!!” followed by a loud crash came from inside his brother’s room, Matthew had trudged his way in front of the dorm room – Al’s door was all the way further down the hall, a good amount of doors away. Like Matthew, the walls were full of merchandise that spoke of a pleasant childhood, filled and plastered with memorabilia of cheesy movies or patriotic souvenirs, not excluding the giant painting of the solar system Matthew had painted Alfred on his 15th Birthday.

“Oh Hey Mattie! Geez you’re still wearing that crap?!” The blonde boy spun round in his blue seat to face Matthew, Mocking his old yet-still-baggy hockey jersey.

Matthew snorted and dug his hands into his pockets as he settled down on the nearby bed and flung his satchel into the other’s lap.

“It’s comfy alright? I could say the same about that shitty jacket you still wear!” the boys sniggered.

After a good few minutes of Alfred ranting over his newest monster creation from the science block, Matthew decided it was time to actually get to the point of his visit.

“Hey Alfred…” Suddenly stopping midway in his speech on a ‘thingymabob-i-found’ the boy with the golden hair perked up, intrigued and slightly worried over the use of his name over the usual affectionate nickname.

 

* * *

 

Alfred was always the lucky one. No doubt about it. Growing up his father made it very easy to get him where he wanted; He was allowed to go to any camp he wanted, do any club he chose and to call Matthew whenever so needed. His natural smarts also played a major role in the success. It was so incredibly easy to shine that bright smile and play around when you know you’ve got things under control.  Even after the separation, he knew how much his talents and easy-going attitude frustrated Matthew; how much confidence he had in comparison to his brother who had been shyer from the start.

> _He couldn’t have been any older than 13 when he first found out what had happened with Mattie. The quieter William-Jones boy had only revealed it to him at that summer camp, in that tiny shed-cabin made from rotting wood. It was a whole mistake, one the American bred brother wasn’t supposed to hear about until much later. It was scribbled haphazardly on a crumpled piece of paper._
> 
> _“Mattie what’s this-“ it had fallen out of his brother’s bag as they were unpacking, The softer child had scrambled to snatch it out of Al’s quick hands._
> 
> _It never did make sense until then. After the separation, time for the two to see each other was limited. When Alfred noticed Matthew never came to the free time activities at those camps they went to just for each other – it always seemed greedy, here Alfred was: after not seeing his brother for a whole year, he had signed up for a camp and he wasn’t even present to play at the lake! But Fuck. It made so much sense after that day._
> 
> _“It’s n-nothing! Hey give it back!”_
> 
> **_[ Appointment For: Matthew William-Jones]_ **
> 
> **_This Student is excused from: Free Time @ Vermont Summer Camp_ **
> 
> **_To attend an appointment in the camp counsellor’s office._ **
> 
> **_This will be regular weekly sessions: Every Friday_ **
> 
> **_As Advised by: Dr O’Neal (Famiy Doctor)_ **
> 
> **_With Permission of: Madeline Williams (Mother)_ **
> 
> **_Thank You. Signed [ ~~~~~~~~~]_ **
> 
> _Eyes went wide in revelation, His heart twanged as he had stared at his brother who held his head down slightly ashamed that he hadn’t told him._
> 
> _“Matt-“_
> 
> _“Just Don’t Al.”_
> 
>  

That was the day he realised his brother had already grown up. Had grown apart. Had not told anyone. Now 5 years later he was certain his brother was better. He had been smiling, they had gotten to this university together, and they were **_going to conquer this goddamn world_** and now…now…now his brother was telling him that it _wasn’t getting better?_

“I didn’t want you to get upset Alfred. I know I was okay for a while-”

“How long have they been telling you?! I just don’t see why you need them, you don’t need them to..to- to function Matt!” the small bottle of pills had been taken out of the violet-eyed boy’s hands and dropped on the floor angrily. His sibling had gripped the corner of his old jersey anxiously as he witnessed Alfred’s angry confusion. Sometimes Alfred cursed himself for being gifted in mathematics and not chemistry or Biology. He could’ve made something to actually help Matthew.

“L-Look I know but I was told to try it again- I just…Look, Alfred, I haven’t told mum, I wanted you to know. I’ll get through it but I need your support...I don’t want to tell her.” That soft face had made Alfred gulp guiltily as he went to pick up the antidepressants once more. Sighing he returned it to his brother. He apologised dearly and drew him close for a sibling hug. He wanted the best for his brother.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m just surprised, shocked is all. When’s your next session, I could drive you?”

 _Matthew was definitely the ‘_ grown-up _’ one._


	7. Chapter 7 - Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .....fIller.....I feel like this is mostly filler and heavy dialogue. I am sorry!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been gone far too long, been busy studying for exams (now awaiting results), enjoying holiday and summer camp. Sorry anyone who's been waiting around for an update! Not so proud of this update honestly, but you know what? I wrote this after a month+ hiatus, opened this dusty document and scratched at my head tryna write this shit out while on a train from Amsterdam to London. I'm exhausted! :L
> 
> anyway I hope everyone had a good summer, all the love  
> \- Bear

Filming was only fun when you were in control. As pessimistic or ridiculous as it sounded Gilbert detested actually acting for someone else’s film – especially when his student director was another film grad struggling to work a camera for their important overdue coursework piece. However, as much as it pained him to admit – he promised Antonio to be a part of his film, just like how he had dragged the Spaniard into his last work, returning the favour was expected of him.

“A Little bit more of you-know Gil! Act!” He groaned as he moved into another position, redoing the same shot that had been tirelessly filmed over and over again.

“Can’t you get your tomato-kid to do it next time? Wouldn’t he be better for this film- I doubt I’m the best actor.” squabbling at his close friend Gil sighed once more as they started to pack up, he had to leave now or else he would be late for work.

The brown haired accented man turned to the albino with a foolish comedic pout in response to the question, becoming defensive over the mention of his totally-not-crushing-hard attraction to a boy in the younger years. Putting on an old black beanie (attempting to hide his ruffled hair from the lack of sleep) Gilbert waved goodbye, trotting down out the campus park towards the large Himaruya Academy gates. Yawns flew out easily and like a cat, he stretched his arm, backpack in the other, as he realised just how tired he was from talking to Matthew and then filming could be. Saturdays were nice enough, like a little gift between the chaotic schedules he had begun to call normality. It usually consisted of a good morning and a single shift down at the music store – a job he enjoyed thoroughly out of all the part-time responsibilities he had taken up. It occurred very well to him that he would have been a music student if media hadn’t become a passion. He definitely fit the ‘Aesthetic’ of a music student at least, as cliché as it sounded. His red band shirt and black jeans matched perfectly with his woolly beanie and snow white fringe, his wrists were encased in a plethora of mismatched bracelets, some silicon from obscure charity campaigns and other threaded purchased at small stalls found at the carnival.

As he made his way behind the counter of the silent music store he whistled incomplete songs and sat on the bar stool. It was nice. The alone time he meant, but as the hour grew longer and only the occasional customer and the other part-timer store assistant popping in from the storage, Gilbert could feel the air become tense and his mind muddled from thoughts. He never really like being alone for too long. It was- It reminded him too much of the times he used to loathe. It only recently became an issue, being alone with his thoughts. For the past few months, he had been working constantly, or studying or sitting in class idly. The vivid noises of shouting from the kitchens of his waiter jobs or the familiar musty smell of the books from the library he worked part-time in, the incessant chatter or classmates he would never know the name off. And now? Silence? It felt wrong. Strange. Scary almost-

_**DING!** _

  * **??? @** 3:00pm [what a rude way of giving someone your number.]



He snorted, it must’ve been Mattie, and he had sneakily left his phone number on a nearly discarded napkin while the Canadian had been distracted with his portfolio during the morning coffee. I wonder if he is actually pissed? No he’s proba-

  * **??? @** 3:02pm [Wait this is Gil’s number right?? Hello?]



Of course. No doubt Matthew Is the shy type. He grinned.

  * **G @ 3:03pm** [new phone who dis???  
jk It is I the awesome Gilbert, Hi Mattie!]


  * **M @ 3:04pm** [Haha very funny (-_-) . Good just checking. What time are you coming round?]


  * **G @ 3:06pm** [My shift ends round 5pm-ish? I’ll drop by around then if it’s okay :D]


  * **M @ 3:06pm** [Sure!]



He faltered. Along with the Canadian boy’s text his phone had received a notification of his organized online notebook (Don’t judge, he’s more organized than he lets on) - It was a reminder to transfer some funds to Ludwig’s account this month. He sighed, wheezing in slight displeasure at the sight of his banking credentials in comparison to the price of the new textbooks Luddy had ordered - even with both of them on part-time, and Ludwig’s scholarship, it seemed as if the second he got his money back it was taken away. Gilbert would never be as unjust as to blame his brother for their financial shortcomings. Don’t get him wrong, they weren’t dirt poor-  A hard work ethic was surely a Beilschmidt trademark between the siblings for as long as he could recall - it’s just that he needed a bit of a break from schmoozing and all the jobs.

Speaking of jobs, his little inner dilemmas were stalled as some teenagers strummed broken melodies on the sample guitars off the display. Each sickly played sound seemed to only kill the attempt of the infamous ‘Wonderwall’, each pluck crudely sounding greatly out of tune, to much of the german’s dismay. _Why is it that all customers think they can play?_

* * *

 

“I have an appointment later today actually at, uh around 7, I mean- you could- instead of just driving...I would like company today, I know that’s awfully late but I need you to sign off for me.” Matthew murmured lowly, his eyes captivated on non-existent dust particles rather than his brother. Although Matthew could attend his sessions by himself (Mind you he was always a big boy about his counselors and the various therapy solutions he had endured), with the new introduction of his reinstated prescriptions his therapist prefered to have someone sign off - proof He was taking the treatment seriously and was willing to keep a support system in place. To not “shake the boat and sink it himself” per say.

“Is..that so? When did I become a trusted adult?” Trying to lighten the mood from before, Al patted his brother on the shoulder, but he knew it was difficult for his brother to ask for his help. Matt liked to fight his own battles, he always kept things private and only took to arms when someone else was caught in the crossfire; signing for him was the least Alfred could do to help. He questioned whether or not that meant Matthew wanted him inside for this session, and with a clear nod the two silently agreed that not a word of this would reach their mother.

“Why is it such a late slot today? You usually take the afternoon ones right?”

“Oh uh Dr Paisley only had this slot cus I...I canceled Friday afternoon ones, I didn’t enjoy wasting those precious weekend hours hah.” he had started fidgeting within his red hoodie, both brothers had retired onto Alfred’s tiny singular dorm bed, squished close together as if little kids at a sleepover again. The American hummed in agreement and as they both rested for a bit, soaking in the comfort of family, they planned to have dinner together for once. Screw the food hall, after picking and joining Matthew at Dr. Paisley’s office they’ll hike up to that dingy roadside diner just off campus. The one with the shoddy light bulbs and the old waitresses that preserved the diner’s 60s dated ambiance. At some point, Al had migrated to his desk seat and was deep in thought as his brother dozed off for a bit on his bed. He felt...he felt like he needed to say something to Matthew, as if their communication needed to be, cleared up. after today, Alfred's heart tugged him to speak for a moment, waking his brother for a short second.

“Matthew, I feel like..”

Listening, his brother fluttered his eyes open before propping himself with one hand up to half-heartedly hear what his sibling had to announce;

“Yeah?”

“I feel like I don’t think I believe in the whole ‘ _Family is fostered through unwavering loyalty_ ’ shit..” apart of him knew not of where he was going with this but for a moment between the two twins, that second it felt right to spill;

“Don’t get me wrong, Mum and- dad, dad tried very hard. Tried. Family..isn’t about listening to whoever or saying whatever just cus you’re blood. We can’t fall to blind fake loyalty alright? So..”

Matthew looked slightly afraid, if not confused, at the words of his brother. Alfred was afraid of what he was saying just as much.

“So..if you ever feel, like you don’t want to deal with mum or dad” he paused, voice almost whispering as if talking to himself, “or me, then know I understand if I did anything to break the loyalty between us okay dude? I want to know that we’re okay. And I want you to know that however you’re feeling, pretending to be okay for me is not loyalty, it’s lying. Please just, talk to me. Talk when you can.”

His brother sat up fully now, engulfed in that bright red hoodie and all.

“Okay Al. I know.” it was...concerning seeing his usually peppy brother so serious. Hugging for a short few minutes and finishing up, Matthew left his brother’s dorm with so much of a soft click of a closing door. Letting out a huff, it felt as if the Canadian had been holding his breath for the entire hour. It was really...nice(?) he had a real talk with his brother like Tim had advised, it was a good step and now he was set for today’s session in that clammy counselor’s office. Great, it was 3 already? Seeing the time, he shot Gilbert a text and started Trekking back to his dorm. lulling his thoughts down, he was focusing on the next thing on his emotionally tedious inner checklist: Making sure his heart wouldn’t explode when he sees that Gilbert after this. _Some painting would be nice right now._

 


End file.
